THE ELEVEN DAYS OF BRIAN NINE; DAY SIX

We took the Wendies to the zoo for the afternoon and walked about in a crowd looking at the sad animals staring sadly back as we drank Seigfreid Max Shakes all macho.  The Wendies drank their Black and Whites and we all well laughed at them poor beasts scratching themselves against the bits of tree in their pens.

            We made up with the Wendies; she was all our Lady-Queens again and we her Man-Kings.  It was well average and pleasant under the yellow glow from the dome, diffused and right hazy. 

I told Wendy Nine by the monkey pen with eleven running monkeys in it, next to the lion pen with its eleven haggard lions, all about when there had been poxy bleep pollution back on the mainland.  I told her about the bleep laws passed and of the new silence I had read of in Brenda’s.

‘Bleep, bleep, bleep.’  I said over and over loads so she could feel what it must have been like with well loads of bleeping coming out of every poxy thing.  Nowadays naff all bleeps.

She smiled and listened looking at the eleven shoddy lions rub themselves vainly on the concrete of their pen and sipped her Black and White while I gulped my Max, exploding in a thousand directions while staying right where I was, just more so; concentrated and well in the zoo.  I stared at her big brown eyes blabbing with my gob all sorts of stuffage from Brenda’s.  Like the info laws, when people were well bogged down with useless and abundant info so much so that laws were passed to well limit said info.  I scratched my legs and she scratched her bum bum.  I imagined the red stripes there all livid.

The Wendies said they would come round tomorrow night for a stinky orgy.

            We parted at the garage, the Wendies going up to the Train and us Brian’s testing our blood in the machine by the garage.  We were AOK.  We raced our scooters at faster miles an hour back to the flat, no one gaining or losing any ground despite us all leaning way forward like Jehu, son of Nimshi, all cocky and full of Max.

            We had dinner and wine at the flat while we scratched ourselves then watched The Tortelli’s on the screen.  Johnny ‘Eggplant’ O’Bergine called the Bobbie Pigs on Pa Tortelli because of all that fence lark and Pa Tortelli was taken away in some tiny van thing and locked up overnight while Ma Tortelli went well mental pulling her hair out trying to raise the bail.